I am walking, feeling the rhythm, I hear the distant beat of drums. They call to me, telling me to come home.
I try to find my way, I stumble and fall, I rise and follow the sound, growing stronger like a heartbeat. I hear the voices of my ancestors calling me, “Nosim, you will be ok, granddaughter do not be afraid, you will find the way.”
I walk closer to the earth, feeling more grounded and connected as I stand barefoot on the earth. I search, sometimes stumbling as my walk gets closer. I feel the heartbeat of the earth as I walk under the sky. I know that Creator is showing me the way. I am walking back to myself, back home, finding comfort in the old ways.
Ceremony calls. I let go of my pain. I let go of my fear. I am walking a new yet old road.
I am walking, feeling the rhythm, I hear the not so distant beat of drums. They call to me, telling me I am home.
As I sit at the edge of the lake in the setting sun I think about days gone by.
I close my eyes.
The breeze blows gentle as the leaves rustle in the wind and I am reminded of my mother’s voice.
She whispers her wisdom to me.
My mother is old, her skin and voice are soft with age
She speaks of a future that is still only a dream. Following a wish for her grandchildren to be blessed with love, hope and happiness.
In that last light of day I realize that my mother may soon be gone away, just like the sunset, having been blessed with the beauty of who she is. She has told me about the pain of losing her mother and how she wishes that she was still her to talk to.
She shares her mothers words of wisdom.
I realize that I too will miss my mother, her words, advice and the love of my mother.
Gone are the days when as a child she held my hand, wiped my tears and made it all better but right now I still have her soft voice, her soft words and hands to hold.
I open my eyes and I know that I cherish these moments still and when she is gone, her love will stay with me in how I speak to my children and whisper her words of wisdom.
The broken bowl, the idea is that we are all similar to bowls, we carry around with us the experiences of our lives and somehow we are able to put ourselves back together. This doesn’t always happen right away but it does happen. It is a process that we sometimes need help with and sometimes we are able to do this ourselves. I had thought of doing this project previously but had not stopped to take the time to gather what I needed. When my supervisor asked me if I would help her with it I thought that it was a good chance to try it out.
As we sat at the board room table painting the gesso on the bowls I was contemplating. I considered what I would put on the bowl, what would it reflect about my grief and loss. I thought about how my parents had separated when I was in grade 7. I thought about the addictions and violence that was in my childhood home prior to their separation. I thought about all the people that I loved and had since lost over time. All these experiences contributed to who I am, they have made me the person that I am and shaped the destiny that I have followed. I put these thoughts aside for a bit while I went back to my regular work day but I felt unsettled. I went online and looked at some quotes on grief and loss. Some were so depressing and some were way to “I shall overcome”. These experiences sat with me while I ran a group for self esteem and I continued to feel as though I needed to let go of some of the thoughts. I was glad to be able to start the project. I knew what I wanted to start with.
When I went to break the bowl and I had a difficult time to do this. I didn’t want to many shattered pieces; it was as though I didn’t want to have as many broken pieces of the bowl as there might actually be in my life. I also felt guilty breaking the bowl as it did represented part of me, I asked my husband to do it for me. I had to explain the idea behind the bowl and as always he helped me. I brought it back to the office to begin this process. I placed all the pieces out on the table and contemplated. Then I decided that the place where the bowl had been broken was similar to my heart. So I decided to paint a red heart around the hole. This was the start of a several hour process. I then decided that I wanted blue sparkle paint over the top of the heart and black sparkle paint at the bottom. The reason for the sparkles, without the darkness there is no light. The reason for the blue above is because when I feel sad I go outside, turn my face towards the sun, close my eyes and look up. The sky makes me remember that there is light when there is darkness.
Next I drew. I decided that it would be easier to draw what I wanted to paint. I decided at that point to draw like I was a little kid. So I drew my family. I drew my mom between two of the broken pieces because my mom was always trying to keep us together. It didn’t always work and if the power of love and her will could have kept us all ok, it would have.
I drew all of us holding hands because we always went everywhere together. Sometimes as kids we hated that, there were 5 of us kids and we all received the same amount, no one ever really got anything more than the other. We even used to divide a box of smarties between all of us and any extra went to my parents. I put my dad on the other side of us kids because of the separation and his leaving. On the same side as my dad I drew a house. We lived in a trailer that had green stripes on it.
We lived in Kikino Metis Settlement, so I drew trees because we were always climbing trees and outside exploring. I also drew the river because in the summer we would go swimming in the river almost every day with all the other kids on our road.
When I painted the sun it was high in the sky but underneath the storm clouds is a sunset because everything changed and my life living out of town and being free to roam around ended when my parents separated. The sunset is attached to the black because I thought I would never get over losing my home, the land that I used to run barefoot on and the freedom that I had.
My family continued to change and that broke my heart. It was like there was a huge hole in my heart and I thought everyone who met me could tell just by looking at me. I turned inside myself for a long time. It then felt strange to glue the bowl together again. It felt like I should be able to make it look the same and hide the cracks but I couldn’t. Then I remembered that my experience created who I am and it doesn’t define me. Its just a part of me.
Once it was time to paint the inside of my bowl this too was hard to decide what to do. There was a huge hole in the side of the bowl. I tried filling it with some of the pieces from the bowl and while it covered it up it didn’t change the fact that there was a gaping hole in the bowl. Then I saw a heart that I had been given by a stranger at the truth and reconciliation event in Edmonton. I decided that I would put that on the hole. This heart said compassion. I thought it was a reflection of how other people have helped me to heal and move forward as well as a reflection of self-care. So I glued it over the hole. I’m not perfect, I have healed some of my emotional pains but it will always be something that stays with me. I painted the inside of the bowl black and then turquoise. I then decided that although the cracks will always be there I have learned some things about myself and being resilient so I decided that I would use sparkle glue to make the cracks stand out but they are the same colour as the paint so its really only if you look closely will you have the benefit of seeing the beauty that comes from the breaks.
Finally I put 4 quotes into the inside of my bowl. These quotes both remind and encourage me. The first is written on the black teardrop in the center of the bowl. It says “The darkest of nights produces the brightest stars.” Again to remind me that even in the darkness I can shine. The next quote is “Sometimes in tragedy we find our life’s purpose.” This is because I became a counselor because of my experiences and I try to help others with theirs. The third is “It is perfectly okay to admit you’re not okay” This is to remind me that I also have to take care of myself. The last quote is personal and a quote by someone named John Graham. It says “I survived because the fire inside of me burned brighter that the fire around me.” This is to always remind me that I am alright and that I can be alright. In all the difficult situations that have happened in my life, I have walked through the other side.
One summer several years ago when we were camping at mile seven. My Aunt, my fathers first cousin, Alsena met us there. We had been camping for several days when Auntie Alsena joined us. One afternoon we spent picking medicines and ĺearning about the plants that we were picking when Alsena told us that her friend Diane was going to meet up with us. She had camped there with us before. When Dianne showed up she had brought sage and sweet grass with her. We learned about creating sage bundles and sweetgrass braids. Once we finished making the braids and bundles we took them and hung them up to dry in the breeze off the lake.
Then we began to clean the roots and prep the medicines. As we were cleaning the medicines Dianne and Alsena were telling stories of the medicines and how we got them.
One of the medicines was spruce gum. This medicine, spruce gum, was/is used as an antiseptic. It helped to hold skin together when someone was injured. It was/is used to treat colds and is added to other medicines depending on the need. The story we were told was about the gift of spruce gum and how badger gave it to us. The badger told the people how to use it for medicine and food. Alsena said that one man was lost in the bush for two weeks in the winter and he ate spruce gum to help sustain his body.
There are so many plants that can help people with their health, it’s important that we keep this knowledge strong and that we spend time with those who know how to treat people.
I have had more people than I expected ask me what it was like to share my story at the TRC. I have to say it was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. It was scarier than anything I have experienced and at the same time it was very liberating.
I had considered, how much do you share when you tell the story of your experience. It is not just my experience but also the experience of my siblings, my parents, my aunts and uncles and cousins. It directly impacts them. It exposes things that you learn not to talk about. It is a fearful thing to break the rules of silence because it is not just our family rules but it is also societies rules of silence.
It is about shining a light on truth that people would rather not see and then giving them a reason to say they knew I was screwed up and now here is the proof because I just told everyone what happened in my family.
FEAR, it is so powerful. It can rob you of independence and steal your dream. It is the great silencer. Fear is one of the most difficult things to overcome. It is surrounded by what ifs and anxiety. It is why I had nightmares for years. The only way to overcome fear is to open yourself up to love and truth. Even miserable rotten truths are better than living in constant fear.
So my truth was spoken in a deeply painful and personal way. I cried a lot at the TRC. I cried because I felt alone, even though I wasn’t. I cried because my family wasn’t there. I cried and grieved my losses. I cried because of the shame I grew up with and I cried because in all those things I experienced were teachings. Some of these were not healthy and others well honestly gave me strength to endure. So as scary as it was, as painful and as difficult as that experience was, I am glad that I did it. I wish that more people would have been able to do it but to those who did, I am so grateful, they were able to share their stories. In telling the story we all gained a little more freedom. And if you really need to know more well, I’m open to telling you about it as long as you are open to listening without judgement.
This is a picture of my favorite place. I thought that since this is my first post I’d write about a place I love. This is Mile 7. To me it is a sacred place, to most others it’s just a place where they camp and have a party in the bush. There is something about being there that renews me. I feel as though I can continue with all the things that stress me out as long as I just make it to Mile 7 at least a couple of times during the summer.
Last summer I camped there, went there with friends and family. I picked medicines there. I picked berries, swam in the lake, listened to the loon and heard a wolf. All this revived my soul. Mile 7 is where I first understood why my dad called me Sakaw Iskwew, it means bush woman in Nehiyawak (Cree). It was the name of my great great grandmother. I sat one evening by the fire, listening to the birds, the sun was setting and I breathed deeply with my eyes closed and said to my husband and kids “I just love the bush.” It was at that moment I understood why my dad called me by her name. It wasn’t to make fun of me as some might think, it was because I genuinely connected with being in nature. It makes me feel better.
The very first time I went to mile 7 was to go camping for the weekend. That was 25 years ago. I have seen it change a lot since then. The beach has disappeared, a forest fire burned a lot of the surrounding woodlands and people have left garbage while others have cleaned up after them. Many people who regularly go camping there talk about people who learn about it from locals and then leave a mess. There even used to be two outhouses there when we started camping there. Anyway, the first time you do something will always be the first time. After that first experience you decide whether it’s worth trying again. Camping out in the bush is always worth repeating for me and I guess this will be too.
Sakaw Iskwew 